


The Bitten Peach

by Inner Voice (inner_v0ice)



Series: Shang/Mulan snippets [1]
Category: Mulan (1998)
Genre: Canon Genderbending, F/M, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inner_v0ice/pseuds/Inner%20Voice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day while marching to the war, they pass a grove of peach trees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bitten Peach

**Author's Note:**

> [The story of the bitten peach.](http://www.gay-art-history.org/gay-history/gay-literature/gay-mythology-folktales/homosexual-chinese-folktales/mizi-xia-bitten-peach-homosexual/mizi-xia-bitten-peach-homosexual.html)

Casting his eye back over the column of soldiers, Shang noticed with alarm that they were four men short. Who was— _oh._ It was the three clowns again, and Ping, who they always seemed to drag along for the ride. Growling, he spurred his horse into a gallop back down the road until he reached the grove of peach trees that they had passed a few minutes ago. Sure enough, there they were, picking peaches and stuffing them down their shirts and into their mouths.

“Soldiers!” he barked.

“Sir!” They snapped hastily to attention, white-faced.

“What do you think you’re doing? We’re on the march, you can _not_ break ranks and stop whenever you please. Back to the column double-time, and see me for your punishment as soon as we make camp!”

“Sir, yes sir!” The four of them broke into a run, then Ping stopped and turned back to Shang.

“…would you like a peach, sir?” He said with a wide, hopeful grin, holding out one with a large bite already taken out of it. Shang stared at the offering, and after a moment of silence Ping started to hunch into himself in embarrassment, but still held out the fruit.

“A _bitten peach_ , soldier?” Shang finally said.

“It’s really delicious, sir—oh. _Oh._ Uh, I, uh—didn’t mean it _that_ way—” Ping blushed and dropped the peach as if it were poisonous. He stumbled backwards, then turned and ran back in the direction of the column.

Shang slid off his horse’s back and stooped to pick up the peach, looking at it contemplatively. He swung back up into the saddle and set off back towards the troops at a leisurely pace. After a moment he took a slow bite of the peach, right on top of the bite Ping had taken out. Ping was right. It _was_ delicious, and juicy. He was wiping the juice from his chin with the back of his hand as he passed Ping, and gasp and blush and shy sideways glance that the young soldier gave made Shang think that perhaps he _had_ meant it _that_ way after all.

For the rest of the day, as he rode at the head of the column, Shang drifted far too often into daydreams of slim fingers and peach juice and _licking_.


End file.
